CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

"John?" Merlin called through the thick wooden door.

"Yes."

"Can I come in please?"

There was a long moment of silence. Merlin was turning to leave with a heavy heart when he heard John call him back. He pushed the door open cautiously to find John sat at the small desk in the corner, his laptop open in front of him. He was sat there, just staring at the bright screen. Merlin could see the lines around his eyes and the dark shadows beneath them. Guilt flooded him. He'd been overly harsh to John Watson these last few months and right now he hated himself for it. When had he become such a spoilt brat?

"What can I do for you Merlin? If you're here to start another…."

"No. I - I've come to apologize." he said sadly, glazing at his feet.

John turned in his seat, watching the younger man. "It's fine. - We've all been under a lot of stress of late. It was bound to have an effect on us."

"Yeah but, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I really am sorry John." he sighed.

"Really Merlin, its fine."

John watched and waited for the young man to leave; only he just stood there silent and remorseful.

"John, can I ask you something. - Personal?"

John swallowed; he wasn't going to like this. Then say no. "What?"

"Why do you have such a problem with me being gay?"

John's eyes widened with shock. "I don't."

Merlin didn't look convinced.

"Really, Merlin, I don't. What you do in your personal life is up to you. As long as you're happy that's all that matters."

"I'm happy with Arthur." Merlin fought to keep his tone civil.

"I - I" John swallowed, he didn't want another argument. "I'm not going to comment on that situation Merlin, because I haven't met him, I haven't seen you together. - and I can't feel what you feel."

"But you do."

John's brows drew together in confusion.

"With Sherlock…I know you do, I see it. Your just so… I don't know, scared, in denial or something. You won't let yourself admit that…"

"Merlin there's nothing between me and your father but friendship."

Merlin dropped down on the end of John's bed and stared at him, causing the doctor to shift under the weight of those blue eyes, so like his father yet completely different.

"Would you die for him?"

"What?"

"Sherlock, would you die for him?" Merlin repeated his eyes locked on John.

The doctor didn't know if he wanted to answer that question, but found he was unable to stop himself. "Yes."

"Do you have fun arguing with him?" Merlin asked with a sad wishful smile.

"Yes." John sighed, swallowing his pounding heart.

"When he's upset with you, does it hurt?"

John dropped his gaze to his lap, not answering.

"Where you jealous when you found out about my mother and me? - Have you ended relationships with women because of him? Would you kill for him? Do love living with him? - Can you imagine your life without him?"

John shifted around to stare at his laptop screen, his heart hammering in his chest, his head spinning. He could feel his hands shaking, trembling more than when he'd suffered from his PTSD.

Merlin got off his the bed and headed for the door. "That's just how me and Arthur are. I swear it. - Can you still say what we have isn't real." Merlin sighed, looking over to the older man. "And if it's real for us, then it must be real for you." Then he was leaving, pulling the door to as he went.

John was left alone in his room with a throbbing headache and a weight on his shoulder he wasn't sure he would ever be rid of. What was he meant to do now? He wasn't gay; he wasn't just saying that, he knew it. But Merlin was right, everything he'd asked, every answer he hadn't given led to the same place. He loved Sherlock. He just wasn't sure if he could do anything about it.

Strolling to his bed, John fell back against the pillow and closed his eyes, rubbing at them with a still trembling hand. Maybe Sherlock didn't want him to do anything, after all the man hadn't given any indication of wanting to be physical, with anyone least of all John. The man was practically asexual and John didn't have any over whelming desire to jump into bed with the man, not now, not ever. It wasn't physical, it was more than that. - John knew that was a thousand time more dangerous, because sex, sex you could deal with, desire wore off and life carried on. Love? That was a whole different kettle of fish. That was permanent.

Okay so sometime that wore off too. Look at Harry and Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. Love wasn't always forever. Yet somewhere in his gut or his heart, or the universe he knew that wasn't going to happen to him and Sherlock, which was terrifying.

John groaned when Sherlock's voice startled him awake. He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep. With a second loud blast of Sherlock's voice, John threw his legs off the bed and marched down stairs, his mind still awash with reminisces of his reoccurring dream.

~SHERLOCK/MERLIN~

MGS: Sherlock

On our way.

M

"John!" Sherlock yelled up the stairs from his seat at the kitchen table. "John! Mycroft's on his way!"

"What?" John mumbled wearily from the green doorway.

"Mycroft is on his way."

The doctor walked over to the kettle. "Why? Not another case, we still haven't finished that window cleaner thing."

Sherlock smirked. "I text Lestrade everything he needed to know on that case."

John swung around with a fresh frown. "You solved it?"

"Of course."

"But we have…" he turned back to the kettle, watching and waiting for it to boil.

Sherlock watched his friend for a second. "It was an accident. The neighbor's German Sheppard knocked the ladder while chasing a cat."

"Oh." John's gaze remained fixed to the kettle.

"Are you doing an experiment John?"

"What?"

"Testing if the old adage about a watched kettle."

"It's a watched pot Sherlock. - And no I'm not." he sighed.

"Then why are you standing there watching the kettle as if it might vanish before you've made the tea."

John huffed a laugh and turned to meet his friend's unusual blue gaze. "Sherlock, do you think we'll ever get back to how we were?"

"I do not understand John?"

"This awkwardness. You not talking to me about cases, me walking on eggshell, this uncomfortable distance between us."

"I have kept you informed of all the important elements."

John shook his head sadly. "We both know things have been strained Sherlock, ever since Merlin's disappearance. No, actually I think it was before that, since Moriarty tried to kill us at the pool. You've been pushing me away, bit by bit."

Sherlock stared at John, watched the sadness and the tiredness on his face. He felt his chest tighten at the sight. He hadn't meant to push his friend away. What was he thinking, yes he had. He'd meant to do just that. He wanted to keep John safe, and if that meant losing his best friend, the first person since Hunith to actually care about him, then so be it.

"Sherlock?"

"I am just trying to protect you John."

The doctor's heart leapt. "I can look after myself Sherlock. I was a soldier remember."

"You were a doctor."

"I still learnt how to kill people." John snapped. "Keep pushing me away and you'll give Moriarty what he wants, you alone and unprotected."

"I have lived years without you watching my back John."

John glared at him. "And you really want to go back to that life?"

The two men stared at each other, acknowledging the truth silently.

"No John. I do not." Sherlock finally said with a heavy sigh.

John nodded. "Then please Sherlock, stop pushing alright. Can we just let's get back to normal."

Sherlock didn't answer; he just got to his feet, turned on his heel and strolled nonchalantly into the living room, flinging himself down into his grey leather chair he picked up the morning paper that had been abandoned hours ago.

John felt the weight vanish the instant Sherlock walked away, they were back to normal and it felt good. He smiled to himself as he turned back to the kettle that had finally boiled. Pulling their mugs off the shelf John began to make the tea. Most defiantly back to normal.

But for how long? How long could he ignore the dreams, the thoughts and the feelings? Somehow Merlin's arrival in their lives, the issue with Arthur, it had unlocked something inside him that he wasn't sure he wanted to face. For months his emotions were at war and it was taking its toll on then all. He pour the hot water into the mugs, watching it gush over the tea bags as he considered what to do.

With the teas made, John decide that his only option was to just go back to pretending. He didn't have to make decisions or contemplate the meaning of his life right now. He had years ahead of him, years with Sherlock. One day he knew he would have to face up to his feelings, up to what he wanted. - But not now.

"So why is Mycroft coming over?" John asked as he handed Sherlock him mug and dropped into his usual seat, leaning back into the large cushions.

"Sherlock, haven't you mended your bell yet, poor Mycroft was on the doorstep ten minutes." Mrs. Hudson cooed suddenly from the doorway.

"Hardly Mrs. Hudson, he was only their three minutes and four-six seconds. And mending the bell is not necessary when you are there to open the door." Sherlock announced matter-of-factly, his attention fixed solely on the paper in his hands.

"I'm your landlady Sherlock, not your housekeeper." his repeat her mantra that always seemed to fall on the deaf ears of Sherlock and John. Not that the woman actually cared, she loved looking after them. - If she was honest.

John jumped at the sudden announcement of Mrs. Hudson's voice; he turned around in his seat to see the eldest Holmes stood slightly behind Mrs. Hudson, with a familiar young man at his side.

A/N: Now honestly can you tell me that in the series, John would answer no to any of the questions Merlin asked him?

I did say I wasn't sure if this was going to slash John and Sherlock, but I guess it kinda turned into that, but in a different way to Merlin and Arthur. Maybe it's the age thing; Merlin and Arthur are in the twenties when their still a slave to hormones, while Sherlock and John are mature world weary men, sex isn't the top of their list of priorities. (Well, it's pretty high up John's) For them it's about companionship, friendship and needing to have that connection.